Just A Little
by elfieberry
Summary: Kurt is a crumbled from his break-up and Puck offers a little bit of a pick me up. They never thought something would actually come out of it, though. Puck/Kurt, Puckurt, Lemons, Language, AU.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Glee. All mistakes are my own.**

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><p>It wasn't even the kind of thing Kurt was into. Sleeping with someone just because? Yeah, well, Puck was there, and he was crumbled.<p>

It was the removal of clothes—neither of them said anything. Nothing at all. Especially while Finn was up in his room, sleeping, and although he could sleep through anything, Kurt had this notion that if he were to even cry out just a bit from one of Puck's oh-so-elegantly placed touches, Finn would come marching down and he would never get laid.

No they weren't together. And they wouldn't be. but what's a little sex between break-ups? Blaine had never been in a relationship, and everyone knows Britney didn't count, so neither had Kurt, but Kurt had been so invested in this one thing that he's been giving it his all. So, yeah, when Jeremiah, the Gap guy came crawling around, deciding it was the time to go and court Blaine, Kurt was kicked unceremoniously to the curb.

He'd waited until he'd gotten home to break down into absolute hysterics, crying and screaming and yelling. Drama-queen? No. These were raw emotions that he'd felt. Had he thought he and Blaine would be together forever? Naivety was a horrible thing and it had Kurt wrapped around it's soft, nimble finger.

But that wasn't even the worst of it.

He'd been yelling at Finn for tracking water into the house and Puck came inside, watching Finn slump like a pussy while Kurt was screaming at him for wetting the carpet.

"Geeze, Hummel, calm the fuck down. Just because that Gargler kid doesn't want to put his cock up your ass—"

Kurt slapped Puck across the face, not even the least bit sorry. Finn gasped from the sidelines and rushed, almost, to stand between Kurt and Puck. Finn turned to Kurt, raising his eyebrows, yelling at the both of them. "Whoa! What the hell was that? You got a deathwish or something?" he asked, and Kurt reached around Finn to claw at Puck's face.

"Tell your friend there to stay the _fuck_ out of my goddamned business, okay?" Kurt seethed through his teeth. Finn looked at Puck and then walked out to the pool, diving in.

Death wish? Not likely. Kurt wasn't scared of Puck like he'd been afraid of Karofsky and Azimio. No, Puck was nothing compared to what those assholes could do to him. And yet, it was like he was provoking something, knowing that if he got Puck riled up enough, he could fight against something, put his body to some use, because he had all this nervous energy that needed to be released, and then—

A kiss.

Kurt was pushing against Puck and throwing him back. "What the hell are you doing?"

Puck grinned, leaning back against the wall. "Why fight when you can fuck? It's a break up, Hummel. Shit happens. If you want to do something with me, I'm not really in the mood to kick your ass."

Kurt quirked an eyebrow. "Are you propositioning me?"

Puck shrugged. "Eh, I guess. But seriously. It's just sex. You need to let loose a little. And I swear to God, if you fucking smack me one more time, I won't hesitate to kill you. You're still a dude."

Kurt looked down at his feet, ashamed now. It was—he'd been looking for something. A kiss hadn't been one of them. But it shut him up, and defeated, he scampered away with his trail between his legs, slamming the basement door behind him.

Yet he waited, long into the hours of the middle of the night, when Puck and Finn should have been sleeping, when he should have been sleeping, and he heard the door to his bedroom open, the tell tale sound of feet padding down the stairs, and then a dark figure.

"So are we going to fuck or not?"

And then Kurt was on him, desperate with his kisses, yet still so smooth and cool. Their tongues mingled roughly, hands groping and pulling, the both of them tumbling to the bed, Puck lying conveniently between Kurt's long, lithe legs, starting a soft rhythm as they rutted against each other.

"I'm not fucking you," Kurt moaned out, hands clutching at the half-back's broad shoulders, feeling the muscles flex and move underneath the tips of his fingers. _Oh, so hot …_ "But—but I want to suck you off."

Kurt flipped them over and pushed Puck back against the bed. He looked absolutely scandalized, but there was so much lust in his eyes—it made Kurt excited to know that he was turning Puck on. That he, a gangly seventeen year old boy was about to have his way with Puck—Lima's resident womanizer.

Kurt wasn't blind. Puck was sexy, and he had the confidence that made a girl (or boy in this case) swoon. He was a regular Casanova, and even though he'd rather not know numbers of how many notches he'd inscribed into his headboard, Kurt was kind of smug that he was Puck's first guy. It was written all over his face, how nervous he was messing around with Kurt. But whatever. It was just a blowjob.

Kurt slid the pajama pants down from Puck's hips, dragging his tongue over the jock's hipbones. Puck's skin tasted salty and clean, and he smelled just like he'd imagined a man would. Lower to dragged the pants, until Puck's cock was lying flat against his abdomen. Oh, man, was it pretty. Thick and long, hot in the palm of his hand. Kurt snaked his tongue around, listening to the pained moans Puck was succumbing, lapping at the veins and tip like a hungry slut. Kurt looked up and met Puck's vision, heavy lidded and burning. Kurt smirked then, keeping Puck's gaze as he dragged his tongue from base to tip, then engulfing him until he couldn't, until his gag reflex kicked in and forced him to let go. He pulled off Puck's cock with a lewd pop, licking his lips from saliva and precome, watching as Puck shut his eyes. Kurt continued, sucking hard, head bobbing. He liked the feeling of Puck in his mouth, thick and hard, hot, and it was definitely something he could get used to.

"Look at me," Kurt demanded and Puck, surprisingly, found Kurt's eyes with his own vision, panting as Kurt continued to make him writhe, clutch the blankets in his fists, to make him unravel with his impending orgasm. "Do you like this?" Kurt whispered, and Puck felt like he was going to explode, nodding in response. "How much do you like it?" he said in between licking, tongue swirling over the tip.

"A-a lot," he stuttered, choking out a moan that please Kurt.

"Yeah? What else do you like?" He murmured. "What else do you want me to do?"

Puck was silent aside from his heavy breathing, almost shaking with the force of need to orgasm.

"Tell me; what do you want me to do? Do you _want_ me to fuck you? Do you want me to ride you? Hmm?"

Puck was nodding fervently, and he was sort of pissed off how good at this Kurt was. It was always the quiet ones, yes, but Kurt in all of his order and proper cleanliness and his prudence, Puck never thought he would ever come so fucking undone underneath the fingertips—and mouth— of Kurt Hummel.

"Yes, please, God …" Puck was rambling, and it was a good look for him, submitting to someone. Yeah, Kurt had always thought he'd be a top—a bossy one, but a top none the less. But he could play bottom for Puck, ride him until he came so hard he saw stars. It was an appealing idea. Not the way he'd imagined losing his virginity, and definitely not the guy he'd thought he'd be doing. But Blaine wasn't into him, and neither was Puck if they were honest, but Kurt hadn't even gone this far with Blaine, and Puck was "straight". So whatever. He didn't want to go to college a virgin anyway. How embarrassing was that?

Kurt relaxed his throat and swallowed Puck down, until his nose was pressed against his abdomen, pulling back just in time to have Puck come in his mouth with a string of indecent profanities, his name thrown in there somewhere. It was messy and some of Puck's come dribbled down his chin, but he swallowed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Puck just stared at him, laying slumped against his bed, eyes focused on Kurt's mouth.

"Aren't you going to spit?" Puck asked, watching Kurt as he climbed up his body, grinning.

"What? No one's ever swallowed for you before?" he murmured and Puck's eyes were gleaming.

"No, not one single girl."

Kurt laughed, straddling Puck as he leaned down for a hot, lazy kiss, feeling Puck harden against his thigh. It made him feel sexy to know he could make Puck hard. He was a boy after all, but I guess, letting Puck know that they actually were going to have full on sex, then yeah, I suppose it would make a boy hard.

Their tongues were heated against one another, tasting and teasing, memorizing, Kurt realized with a sudden jolt. He had half a mind to pull back from Puck, because Puck was drunk and he wasn't and this was kind of like taking advantage right? But a drunk person's actions spoke a sober mind—

"I want you," Puck said softly, in between their kissing, and Kurt thought, _to hell with this_. He climbed off of Puck and held up his hand, going upstairs to find a half-full discarded bottle of whiskey and took a few drinks to steel himself for this. Could he actually do it? Fuck Noah Puckerman one time and just go off to New York like nothing ever happened? Could he just get drunk, get laid, and not care about that fact that he wasn't in love with the half naked man in his bed.

Yes. Yes he could.

Kurt padded down the basement stairs, finding Puck still in his bed, completely naked down. Oh, and what a sight it was. Kurt stripped, unashamed of his body and pulled out the necessary things he needed. A bottle of lube and a few condoms, because this was Puck and they were going to have as much sex as they could before Kurt left. Because maybe this was the only chance he got. Damn it, he wasn't going to waste it. And he'd heard many things about Puck's stamina. no need to waste that either.

Naked, he climbed back onto the bed, a little more clumsy than before because of the alcohol, but nothing too bad. He could say he was on the same page as Puck, buzzed, having a one-night stand.

Puck's body was hot and hard, a little sweaty, but a whole lot sexy. Figuring Puck hadn't ever dabbled in anal sex, Kurt went ahead and prepared himself, two fingers slicked with lube and then three, all the while Puck lay back, amazed, watching as Kurt unraveled himself.

It was hotter than he'd expected it to be. Kurt's eyes were closed and he had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, letting go ever so often to let out a terribly soft moan that made Puck's dick twitch. He placed small, open mouthed kisses over Kurt's lower stomach and hips, taking the soprano's cock in his hand. It was heavy against his palm, hot and just a little slick with precome and it turned him on knowing how hard he was after giving Puck that mind-blowing blowjob. He must have been a little cockslut with that Gargler kid to be that good at blowjobs.

Kurt pulled his hands away, leaning down to press some kisses onto Puck's neck, reveling in the sounds he made, knowing that these marks would be there to see for the last week of school, that everyone, Santana, Rachel, even Mr. Schue, would see all these marks he made and be none the wiser. But Puck's hand was on the back of his head, pressing him closer, silently asking him to suck hard, make the marks darker. And Kurt was nothing if not a freaking people pleaser.

He pulled back though, just a little, shifting his hips so Puck's cock was aligned with his entrance, condom already in place. But for the sake of Puck's gay freak out, he pulled back just enough to ask, "Are you sure?"

Puck cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "Yeah, I'm sure. It's just sex right?"

Kurt grinned, nodding. "Just sex."

He braced himself with one hand on the jock's broad chest, absently flicking the nipple ring with his finger before sliding down slowly over Puck, impaling himself as he watched Puck's face, contort into a mask of definite pleasure, groaning when Kurt was sitting down on his lap with his cock inside that tight warm heat.

"Holy fuck, you're so tight."

"Gimme a second," Kurt gasped, trying to get used to having something so big inside of him, experimenting with tiny movements of his hips, before finding a soft, slow rhythm.

"O-oh, God," Puck stuttered, throwing his head back, hands flying to Kurt's hips as he helped the smaller boy in guidance of his hips, up and down over him. It was so hot, so deep, so tight—Puck wasn't exactly sure how he was going to last through this. Kurt was riding him, hard, hands on his chest as he moved his hips in quick little motions, not quite bouncing, but goddamn did it feel good. But then, Puck managed to sit up, and press himself against the smaller boy, Kurt wrapping his arms around Puck's neck, holding him close. Puck set his hands on Kurt's waist, leaning his face up for a kiss as they thrust together, hard and fast and deep, meeting each other somewhere in the middle. Kurt made the softest sounds, little moans and pants and heavy breaths, hot against Puck's mouth, neck, and ears.

"Do you like this?" Kurt whispered, licking over the space beneath his ear, his hot breath cascading over him. "Do you like that I'm riding you, Puck? Does it feel good?" Kurt moaned, biting down on his neck when Puck thrust up into him just a little bit harder. "You do like it, huh?"

Puck found Kurt's mouth, shoving his tongue into it, a hot, sloppy kiss that made Puck groan when Kurt sucked on his tongue. "Are you going to come? Come for me like a good little boy," Kurt ordered.

He had to admit, for a dude who uses big, fancy words, Kurt had a pretty damn dirty mouth. And man, it did things to him. His hand grasped Kurt's cock in between their stomach, messily jerking him off as his he was pushed closer and closer to the edge of his own orgasm. Kurt mewled—_so hot_—and then he was coming between them, ropes of wet sticky come covering their chests and stomachs as Puck came inside of Kurt, hot and hard—so hard he could see the fucking stars. Goddamn.

Kurt slumped against Puck, closing his eyes for one second as Puck held onto him, and for that one second, he pretended this mattered, that this meant something.

But then he opened his eyes and found that, No, this didn't mean anything.

"I'm starving," Kurt muttered with a grin. "Food then round two?"

Puck cocked his eyebrow.

"What? I've got you in my bed for no strings attached sex. I'm not wasting this."

"Okay, okay. Food and then round two."


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing and all mistakes are my own.**

**So I know I said this was a one shot, but the potential was riding hard for this story, so here is the second chapter. Most likely riddled with mistakes and moving a bit fast, but here you are. Enjoy.**

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><p>It was months later that Kurt and Puck were drunk together again, where lowered inhibitions found them sat away from the rest of the Christmas party going on above them.<p>

No, they weren't friends still, but Puck had calmed on the bullying—no slushees, no pushing into lockers, no harsh name calling. Kurt noticed-didn't say anything, but he noticed, and a lot of the time, Puck was rewarded with a small smile, just a tiny secretive curl of the lips and there. Everything between them was new, and their past had been burned to ashes.

And they'd found a sort of pattern-neither of them fucked when they were sober. Drunken sex never meant anything, and it was easier for Puck not to notice how cute Kurt was, or for Kurt not to fall in love with the bad boy. It was easy. No embarrassment, no feelings—well, other than the blissful orgasms they couldn't get enough of.

—&—

Puck was over Kurt's house right before graduation, visiting Finn of course, and late one night-while they were both sadly sober— they talked about their arrangement. Kurt was surprisingly cool about it. It was one in the morning and Kurt was lying in his bed, reading Wicked when Puck came down the stairs, hands empty of any booze. Sure, Kurt was proper, but he was still a guy and he was still horny.

"Hey," Kurt said, bookmarking his page and setting the thick book down as Puck sat on the edge of the bed.

"Hey."

Kurt quirked an eyebrow. "Did I do something wrong?" Kurt asked, keeping his distance from the older jock, looking at him with curious eyes.

Puck shook his head. "We're not in a relationship."

Kurt shrugged. "I know. It's not a big deal. I mean, sure, I'm not used to fucking a guy without strings, but it's fine. I get it, Puck."

Puck stared at him. "You sure? I just wanted to make sure that you knew that."

Kurt smiled, it was only a little malicious, but it got the point across. "You don't have to ask permission to fuck Santana or any of the Cheerios or someone's mother. Just-condoms." Kurt shrugged again. "I'm a big boy, Puck; I know what I'm doing."

Puck grinned. "No chance of getting some right now, is there?"

Kurt bit his lip-he was too shy to undress in front of Puck like this, when he knew Puck might have some sensibility and realize he's fucking a guy. But Kurt knew, the liquor cabinet upstairs would contain half empty bottles of tequila, whiskey, and rum, and after a few shots, inhibitions would be lost and he's wake up with the satisfying soreness the next morning.

Kurt grinned. "Let me get a bottle."

—&—

It was Christmas time now, and while most everyone had gone from Lima for college and universities, they all came back to see each other, a Christmas party being held in the Hummel-Hudson home while Burt and Carole had fled for a long awaited Wife-and-Husband honeymoon of sorts, leaving the house in Kurt's care rather than Finn's. And then Finn had the marvelous idea of a party and so upstairs was filled with Gleeks and football players and underclassmen the formers had associated, as well as new college friends they had made.

So Puck had slammed back some beers and a few Christmas shots, and Kurt had sipped his wine carefully, until the both of them reached the point of "Hey! I'm horny." Kurt's vision quickly found Puck's and with a quirk of his head, he nodded towards the basement and left, Puck following without suspicion a few minutes later.

Kurt was sat in Puck's lap, grinding their erections as they kissed, slow and hot, the touch of lips burning them each. Puck lazily dragged his hands down Kurt's back until he rested them on the still-smaller boy's ass. Kurt whimpered when Puck squeeze, managing to push them closer. The jock kissed his way down to Kurt's neck, washing his throat with deep kiss, marking him in dark purple marks.

Puck remembered last time. He remembered every single part. Because when the sex was good, you tended to remember it. And Kurt? Sure, he was polite and prim, and oh-so-lady-like, but in the sheets? He was wild, like frottage was second-nature to the tiny singer. Didn't matter that he was a dude. He was a good fuck, and if Puck was going to experience it again, there was no way he was going to deny it.

Kurt began undressing Puck, pushing off the hot leather jacket, pulling up the black V-neck sweater he wore until his palms were met with heated skin, gently raking his nails over the golden flesh, growling deep in his throat with anticipation. Kurt leaned forward, pressing soft, hot kisses over Puck's jaw, whispering, "I want you to fucking pound me into that mattress, Puck. I want you to fuck me so hard I can't walk. Can you do that?"

He could feel the rush of the shudder that ran through Puck's body. He was aggressive with Kurt, taking his hips into the palms of his large, skilled hands, throwing him on the bed behind them, crawling on top of Kurt, eyes connecting with the dark lust swimming in the irises of his eyes.

"Fuck yes, I can do that," he muttered, his voice harsh and ragged with want as he attacked Kurt's mouth with his own, tongues fighting and tasting, the lingering beer and wine mingling with the sweets and desserts Kurt had laid out earlier. Puck was rough with Kurt, ripping off the clothes, not particularly caring-and he found that Kurt didn't either. So buttons were popped, shirts and jeans and underwear hastily removed until it was just the press of their bodies; hot and sweaty in the overheated basement; their moans and cries drowned from the frilly music playing above them.

"In me, I need you inside of me," Kurt groaned as Puck ground down into him, between his legs, cock against cock, hard until Kurt made that satisfying strangled sound of need. And Puck complied, using his long fingers to stretch Kurt open, three fingers deep inside of him until Kurt was scraping at Puck's shoulders with his nails, begging for Puck to get on with it, damn it.

The condom was swiftly rolled on, the foil packaging discarded behind them. Kurt grabbed the bottle of lube, generously coating Puck's cock, tugging a few times before Puck growled at him.

"Fuck me, baby," Kurt purred, pulling Puck down flush against him, and with one striking motion, Puck was inside of him, deep and long, bigger than he remembered. Then again, all the other men he'd fucked since Puck couldn't really measure up.

Puck's strokes were hard, one arm on the side of Kurt's head, the other gripping Kurt's hip as Puck thrust into the soprano, head buried in Kurt's neck licking and sucking, biting as he moved his hips, Kurt scratching long and hard down his back, pulling him deeper still. Kurt, the flexible dancer he was, curled one leg around Puck's waist, the other thrown over his shoulder. Kurt threw back his head as Puck brushed that sensitive spot inside of him, making him scream as the pleasure jolted through him, almost too much. "More, harder," Kurt pleaded, pushing his hips to meet each of Puck's thrusts, blinding him with the feelings coursing rapidly through him. There was no way he was going to last. Not when he was being fucked this way.

Puck pulled back just a little to meet Kurt's mouth, heated kisses shared as they worked their rhythm, unrelenting as their tongues mimicked the thrusting of their hips, until Kurt pulled away, whimpering gasping, coming over their chests and stomachs, clenching hard around Puck, nearly dragging out Puck's release before he even though he was ready to climax. But there it was, burning hot in his veins, pooling low in his stomach before he cried out Kurt's name and came deep inside the smaller boy, convulsing on top of Kurt until he slumped down. Kurt curled his legs around Puck's waist, a slow lazy motion of pulling him just a little bit closer.

They breathed deep and hard, panting until they could catch their breaths. Kurt was the first to move, pushing Puck back off of him so he could clean up and gather his clothes. "Shower?"

There was a mischievous glint in Puck's eyes and Kurt shook his head. "Insatiable, you are."

"Yeah, well, you fuck like an animal."

Kurt licked his lips and giggled. "Meow."

Puck laughed heartily, noticing the soft sting of the scratches, he would no doubt have littering his back. "Come here, Kitty."

Kurt started to retreat to the bathroom, laughing as Puck chased him, calling him Kitty while Kurt meowed.

Nevertheless, their shower was thoroughly enjoyed-as it was the only time Kurt allowed Puck to fuck him without a condom. (Puck hadn't been fucking anyone else, but Kurt didn't need to know that; he wasn't whipped for Kurt's cock).

They dressed and Kurt had to redo his make up so Puck-with one last long, hot kiss-left the bedroom to join their friends. Kurt finishes making his face pretty and joined them as well, no one even glancing at them.

"Kurt? Kurt! Where were you?" Rachel slurred, Tina draping herself over him.

"I spilled some wine on myself so I had to put the clothes in the washer and shower."

"Oh! Oh, you missed it," Tina said. "Quinn and Santana kissed, and Britney went home crying. And then Finn and Mike were dancing and Rachel dared them to kiss and THEY DID!"

Kurt quirked an eyebrow, glancing in the direction of the boys. He laughed, finding them on either sides of the house.

"Really?" Kurt muttered.

Rachel and Tina nodded, the Asian girl continuing, "And I think Sam and Mercedes found a room, if you know what I mean." Tina paused. "It's an innuendo." Kurt looked at her. "It means they're having sex."

Kurt bit back his laugh and then someone announced it was time to open presents. Wow, midnight already? Christmas sure came faster than he'd expected.

The Gleeks gathered in the den, half of them drunk, the other half steadily getting there. They had decided on Secret Santa this year, drawing names from a hat to determine their giftees. Kurt had gotten Rachel, and he's had a golden star pendant specially made for the would-be Broadway star.

As they passed the gifts around, Kurt sat patiently, for his Secret Santa to come forward and give him his own gift.

Puck found him.

"Yeah?" Kurt asked, looking up at Puck, his soft smile so much different than the rough demeanor he'd had showed only moments before.

"I got you something," he said, hiding a gift behind his back.

Kurt sat up, surprised. "Who was your Secret Santa?" Kurt asked.

"Rachel. She gave me some sunglasses. I don't think she knows we won't be seeing the sun for a while what with all the snow," Puck said with a soft laugh. It was like neither of them were wasted anymore. Well, sure, Kurt had been buzzed, but Puck-maybe he could hold his liquor better than he thought.

"Lemme see," Kurt said excitedly. Puck handed the box over, revealing a very nice pair of black framed Ray Bans. "How lovely," Kurt said in admiration.

"Yeah. But here," Puck muttered, thrusting a tiny box into Kurt's hand. "I saved up for it forever."

Kurt unwrapped the pretty wrapping and gasped when he saw the signature blue color of a Tiffany's box. He knew immediately he couldn't accept it. Not if Puck had spent so much on it.

Inside was a small charm, a little snowflake with a small diamond in the middle. It was silver and gleaming, absolutely gorgeous and Kurt pushed it back, away, into Puck's hands. "I can't, Puck. I can't."

And then he got up and left.

Kurt owned exactly one charm bracelet. One. And it had belonged to his mother-she'd given it to him when he was seven, and he'd kept it safe in his music box, until he was old enough to wear it without it falling from his wrist, until he knew he wouldn't lose it. He'd never told anyone about it. Never showed it to anyone. But somehow, Puck had notice it, the two times he'd worn it this year-and it scared him.

He and Puck weren't in a relationship; they'd made it clear all those months ago.

And then this.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Kurt twirled around in the kitchen, finding Puck standing there, his face sort of sad. "No. Well, yes. I don't know. What are you doing, Puck?"

Puck looked to the ground, setting the blue box on the counter. "Look, I just, I don't want to be alone anymore. I'm not saying that we should get together or anything, but I like being with you Kurt. And I guess, I just—I wanted to ask you something, and I thought maybe getting you something nice might butter you up."

Kurt smiled, after trying so hard not to. "I suppose those multiple orgasms didn't hurt."

Puck laughed and walked closer to Kurt, lowering his voice. "I want to leave, Kurt. I can't be here anymore. My mom and my sister are already gone. And, I thought—I heard you and Rachel talking about your roommate moving out and you needing a replacement—"

Kurt quirked an eyebrow. "Don't you think that's a little close for comfort? We agreed that this would be an open kind of arrangement. I don't—I don't really want to listen to you fucking a bunch of girls, Puck." Kurt wrung his hands in front of him, locking his eyes with a lovely golden hazel. It was odd that they were so serene now since moments ago they had been raging with lust.

Puck frowned slightly, looking away. "Aww, come on, Kitty. You know I wouldn't be like that. I'm not like that anymore," he said cheerily.

Kurt sighed, looking at Puck with new eyes. "Why?"

"Because, believe it or not, I kind of . . . miss you," Puck murmured.

Kurt grinned and enveloped Puck into a hug. "You missed your fuck-buddy. How sweet." He let his arms dangle around the taller boy's neck, keeping them pressed close.

"Shut up, Hummel." Puck grinned and pushed Kurt back against the counter, hovering over him like a predator.

"What, no more Kitty?" Kurt said with a shining smile, knowing he was messing with Puck.

"Well, you sure do have the claws, Hummel," the taller boy said. Kurt giggled and shook his head.

"Fine. You can come with me. This month is already paid, so you have until next month to find a job in LA. Shouldn't be too hard since you can probably sleep your way into a job," Kurt said absently.

The jab kind of hurt Puck, knowing that Kurt thought of him that way, that he slept with people just because. And while it was true, Puck realized that a little friendship goes a bit of a long way.

No, Puck and Kurt weren't friends. They were just fuck-buddies who tolerated each other.

But Puck was longing a bit now. The cute faces Kurt made, his soft voice, his bitchy attitude. Puck was already in Kurt's pants—what was it going to take to get the rest of him?


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own Glee. All mistakes are my own. **

**Sort of a filler-ish chapter, but I'm impatient and I need to get things going with this story. I've got quite a bit in store. Um, I don't know how long this is going to be, but I'm thinking around 10-15 chapters, depending if any ideas pop into my head. I'm in the middle of eighty gillion other stories I really want to publish. **

**Also, I don't know how frequently I'll update. I work six days a week and just have shit to do mostly. But I'll do my best. I wont leave this story or whatever, and I'll let you know if I decide to discontinue. I've been thinking about it, and this is only chapter three, but we'll see.**

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><p>Kurt was sitting on the sofa in the living room, watching trash television. He nursed a mug of steaming coffee, wrapped up in a comforter his mother had made when he was little. He was just counting down the days until he could be back at his elegantly decorated apartment, back in the office writing critical articles for Nylon Magazine. Yes, the headquarters were based in New York, but with his stunning school resume and impeccable fashion sense, they had offered him a position in their newly opened office. The style was bohemian chic, sort of hipster, but he had changed over the last six months as well and quickly found that the homey, sort of calm sense of style had attracted him. Don't get him wrong however—he could totally rock a red carpet look in an instant. But with a city like LA, he didn't need to stand out where he fit in so perfectly.<p>

Oh! And then there was the matter of Puck coming with him. He sort of liked Puck. Not in a romantic way (he knew better than that) but in a we-could-be-good-friends way. Puck had an astounding sense of placement and like Santana and Mercedes, Puck wasn't afraid to knock him off the pedestal he's placed for himself. Puck kept him grounded.

Kurt changed the channel and settled on _16 and Pregnant_. Though he'd sort of lived the tail with Quinn and Puck, it was still kind of trashy how so many girls were pregnant. Some were even fourteen or fifteen and that made him so glad to be a boy.

The doorbell rang and Kurt lazily walked off the couch to answer it, finding Santana standing at the door. He quickly ushered her in so she wouldn't freeze in the snow.

"Hi, San," he said, kissing her cheek before helping her out of her coat.

While Mercedes had found a new love in Sam, Santana had wormed her way into the spot of bestest-friend-in-the-whole-wide-world, and Kurt couldn't really complain because past all the bullshit bitch attitude she pulled, she was actually a really good friend, and a super good secret keeper.

"Hi, babe," she hummed quietly, staying in Kurt's embrace just a little longer than she usually did.

"Trouble in paradise?" he asked hesitantly.

Santana sighed. Her features were worn and she looked as though she hadn't slept much the night before. He wouldn't put it past her considering she had been completely and totally wasted.

"Yeah," she murmured, "but only a little. Britney won't give me my sweet lady kisses," she said. And in Brittana talk, that was code for "She's fucking pissed and we might break up."

Kurt looked at her sympathetically. "Maybe you should just give her some time, San. Look, I know I'm a dick for saying this, but maybe you should find someone else. You live in San Francisco. Not too hard to find a few dominating lesbians," Kurt teased. Santana laughed.

"Yeah maybe. But I love Britney. I like—I like that she's a ditzy girl—that she hangs on to each word I say, that she calls my strap-on a 'lady penis'."

Kurt grinned at her and just took her hand in his. "Maybe, though, it's time to move on. I was dumped by Blaine, whom I though was going to be the one I was going to lose my precious virginity to." He shrugged and Santana gave a face, like she was interested and reserved all at the same time.

"Who did you lose it to?"

Kurt grinned. No one, not Mercedes or Tina or Rachel, or even Santana who knew some of the deepest, darkest things about him, knew that he lost his virginity to Noah Puckerman after downing a quarter of a bottle of whiskey.

"Just some guy," he said with a laugh. "It was nice, and sometimes we do it, but I haven't with him in a while."

Santana lifted a perfectly waxed eyebrow and smirked. "And here I thought you were a candles and rose petals kind of gay. Boy was I wrong."

Kurt left it at that and ushered her to the sofa, sharing his mother's blanket with her as they watched and commented on the stupid naivety on the pregnant girls showcased on his television.

He thought a little about that first night, how he'd woken up to an empty bed and realized he could get used to sleeping with someone without having to work around feelings. Puck didn't expect anything from him and he didn't expect anything from Puck. Waking up in an empty made him see that, yeah, he lost his virginity, but it didn't leave him empty either. So he limped for a few hours. Big deal. Puck's dick was enormous.

When Santana had fallen asleep on the couch, Kurt retreated to his bedroom, letting the Latina girl sleep off her worries for a little while. But after flipping through several magazines and reorganizing his closet, boredom found him terribly easily. He lay back on his bed, thinking to take a little nap before he had to begin an article for Nylon. But of course, sleep evaded him. He switched on some Gaga, quietly humming "Marry the Night" before switching it to "Bad Kids". Secretly, whenever he missed Puck, he would listen to that song. Sure, it didn't fit the badass boy perfectly, but there were select lyrics that reminded him blindingly of his . . . sex-friend.

Kurt danced around his room, listening to the song before it shuffled over to "Government Hooker".

"Damn, I love this album," he muttered, shaking his hips to the lyrics until he tumbled on his bed, in need of some company. Kurt dialed Puck's phone number, holding his phone to his ear as he listened to the rings until he was met with Puck's voice.

"Hello?" Puck muttered, and Kurt could hear the anger in his voice. Kurt became instantly concerned, though he didn't know exactly why.

"Puck? Are you okay?"

"No." The answer was short and curt and Kurt didn't like that his sex-friend was upset. He wasn't sure why, considering he didn't normally care about the trivial things that had usually troubled the jock, but now-it was different. They were going to live with each other. It's best that they got to know each other rather than fuck each other over, right?

"Do-do you want to talk about it?" the soprano offered, lying back against his bed, curling up in his mother's comforter.

"I-I don't know. Isn't this pushing the boundaries you set for us?" Puck asked, hesitant.

Kurt pursed his lips and shrugged. "Well, I guess we could be friends. I mean, if we're going to be this way, we could just have an open relationship? I mean-"

"No, that sounds cool," Puck said. "It's not like anything will be different, right? I mean it's kind of what we're doing anyway. Besides, I don't usually think up names to call people, Kitty."

Kurt giggled. "I like that you call me Kitty. I don't know where you got it from, but it's nice." He laughed a little more. "Besides, you have a whole slew of names you call yourself!"

Puck laughed. "I could come over if you wanted," Puck offered, humor still in his voice.

Kurt sighed. "I'm not really in the mood for sex, Puck."

Puck chuckled. "I meant to hang out Kurt. Not just for sex. I mean if we're going to be friends . . ."

Kurt liked the idea of Puck coming over, of them watching a movie or talking or playing those atrocious video games he was secretly addicted to. "Yeah, okay. Sounds great. Are you hungry? I could make some lunch or something. Or we could order in? Or-"

"Whatever's cool with me."

Kurt smiled. "Okay. I-I'll see you when you get here." he hung up and then busied himself with getting ready. There was a pleasant burning inside of him, low in his stomach. It happened when he knew he was going to meet Puck for a little stress relieving sex, but now? Sure, he was a little worked up over the fact that he was going to see Puck, but it wasn't the same. He was excited to talk to him, maybe even cuddle. Except Puck wasn't a cuddler, so he wouldn't get his hopes up. Nope.

It was only fifteen minutes later, that the doorbell rang and Kurt was letting Puck in from the snow, taking his hand, and leading him into the basement. Once the door was shut, Kurt pressed his mouth to Puck's suddenly in the mood for a bit of making out. Puck was surprised, but on for a second as Kurt helped him out of his jacket, warming him with the searing heat of his slim body.

Puck pulled back, grinning. "Hi," he said, mischief lacing his voice.

"Hi," Kurt echoed with an equally happy grin.

It was already getting late, almost eight. Kurt led Puck to the bed, but made no motions to lay back or even to take off his clothes, which sort of relieved Puck. Sex was great with the other boy, but recently he found himself wondering what it would be like to just talk. And if that made him a girl, whatever. He was Puck-he could do whatever the fuck he wanted and get away with it.

"So what's bothering you?" Kurt asked. He had kept Puck's hand in his, absently, yes, but Puck had noticed the loose grip, like it was the most normal thing in the whole world. Puck shrugged however. He was pissed off because he'd been talking to Santana before Kurt had called him, and she was relaying stories about Kurt's old conquests in LA, men he'd slept with. And though he'd told her he hadn't wanted to know, she told him anyway. Some of the guys he'd had relationships with sounded nothing like him, guys that could make Kurt happy. Could he make Kurt happy? that was if Kurt even opened his eyes and saw that Puck was clearly waiting for him.

"Nothing really, I guess. Just woke up in a bad mood."

Kurt smiled sympathetically. "It's the town. It poisons you. I'm surprised that half of us haven't offed ourselves. Compared to LA? This town is absolute shit."

Puck didn't say anything, just sighed and Kurt pulled him down on the bed. "Come on. I know you didn't come here for sex, but I think maybe it'll make you feel better."

Puck was confused. "I thought we only fucked when we're drunk?"

"No sex. I'm tired. But I thought maybe a little making out would cheer you up."

Kurt kissed him, Puck not protesting one bit. Their tongues mingled, and Kurt found his way on top of the taller boy, lying flat against him. Kurt was a lot lighter than Puck had expected, but his weight was comforting as they kissed lazily, Kurt's fingers curling into the material of his sweater. Puck settled his hands on Kurt's waist, slowing letting them fall to cup Kurt's ass, grinding them together. Kurt broke the kiss and let out a soft moan, closing his eyes and throwing his head back as he worked his hips down into Puck's, rutting against him, hard and slow. Their kisses were passionate and even thought Puck usually took control of their making out, he relinquished it to Kurt, wanting for a little while to pretend that this mattered to Kurt, that this wasn't something to just get him off for a while.

Kurt sucked dark hickeys onto the golden skin of Puck's throat, softly moaning a simple, "Noah," when their hips met over and over again, harsh and unrelenting. But Puck was stuck on Kurt saying his actual name. Usually, Kurt didn't stray from calling the jock his nickname or something else when he was annoyed. But "Noah"? Kurt hadn't ever uttered that one before.

Puck came in his jeans and Kurt didn't hesitate at all to follow. Their hushed cries were quiet, but their grips on each other were tight. Kurt didn't move and neither did Puck. They just lay there, messy with just hints of sweat and come, but made no moves to release one another.

They just sort of . . . fell asleep.

—&—

Kurt was pulled from sleep when he heard laughing.

"Oh. This is rich."

He opened his eyes and tried to move, but his body felt heavy and he realized there was a pair of strong arms around him. It was comforting, waking up with someone warm and hard, until he realized that someone was Noah Puckerman.

"Oh, shit. Santana, shut up," Kurt snapped, wiggling out of Puck's grasp. "Wake up, Puck," he muttered, using on hand to push at his shoulder.

"Dude, I'm trying to sleep. You've never been that eager for sex before."

Santana laughed harder. "Oh, sex, you two? Oh God," she cackled and Kurt glared at her.

Puck instantly woke up, sitting as he saw the amused look on Santana's face. "Oh, fuck."

Santana shook her head. "Never pegged you to play for the other team, Puckerman," she teased and he gave her a deadpan stare.

"Yeah, that coming from the queen of lesbian-land," Puck said, and Santana just laughed a little bit more.

"Whatever, Puck. You guys are kind of cute together though," she mused, sitting next to Kurt. "Why didn't you tell me you guys are together?"

"Because we aren't," Kurt answered simply, a little pang jolting him as he let the words tumble out of his mouth. He looked at Puck and saw just a tiny flash of something, but he couldn't really place it.

"Wanky," she said with a grin. "Eventually, everyone wants a piece of the Puckerman."

Puck grinned, lying back. "Kurt, can I borrow your shower? I've got come sticking to me."

Kurt grimaced. "I know, me too."

"Well don't mind me. Can I watch as you two get it on in the shower?" she teased, before Kurt shooed her out of the bedroom, leaving them alone after he locked the door.

Kurt turned back to Puck who was still lounging in his bed. He grinned and turned around, walking to the bathroom. "If you need me, I'll be naked in my shower," Kurt said with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

Puck shot up from the bed and followed, earning a tinkling chuckle from the soprano.

It was the first of January.

Puck was anxious as he tried to relax. His body buzzed with nervous energy he wasn't sure how to use. Jerking off could only take off so much edge.

He wasn't sure what to expect when they got to LA. He was sure Kurt would have a million friends, all of which were posh and intelligent. Not that Puck wasn't intelligent—he'd purposely failed school because he had to keep up his image. How he's graduated school was still a mystery to him, but Mr. Schue had given him a D, mostly from extra credit because he was in Glee. He'd graduated with straight D's actually. He could never get into college.

You see, Puck was not only smart, but borderline genius. He talked stupid and acted stupid because Lima was just that—a town full of people with average intelligence. However, maybe he would go to college, ace all of his classes, make something of himself. He already knew Kurt wouldn't want to be with a loser forever. And maybe they would never be together, but Puck was realizing that he had to shape up before anything with Kurt could possibly happen.

Fuck.

Puck was lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was late already, but he had his phone in his hand, wanting to text Kurt so bad. He just wanted to talk to the kid, because talking to Kurt made him feel good. They hadn't talked about a lot of things, but sometimes, over their nights of drunken adventures, they found themselves opening up to each other. Kurt had even cried a few times while they were together before pulling on that mask Puck was so used to seeing. He hated that Kurt was so . . . different. It was like there was two of him. The Kurt that everyone saw, and the Kurt that Puck thought he saw. He couldn't be too sure considering that no, Kurt hadn't opened up completely to him. But if Kurt did, Puck wouldn't go away.

But how exactly, did Puck tell Kurt that he was kind of in like with him? Like, _like _like. It had started out with just sleeping together for kicks, because Puck was curious about fucking a boy and Kurt was lonely after having broken up with that hobbit from the Garglers. But then, it didn't turn out like his relationship with Santana (which he had not expected). He thought he would be able to call Kurt in a time of sexual need, get drunk with the kid, fuck him, and not feel anything afterwards but the sweet bliss of an overwhelming orgasm.

Well boy was he wrong.

It was as if each time they fucked, they got closer. And while it wasn't a bad thing, it just wasn't totally right. Puck was nineteen (young, really) but he'd never had a steady relationship in the entirety of his life. He just sexed up a few girls and failed to call them again. No hard feelings. But this was different—he hated it—but it made him excited.

He picked up his phone only to hear the doorbell ring. Picking up his jeans from the floor, Puck forced himself into them before clambering down the stairs and getting the door.

On his doorstep stood a very chilled looking Kurt.

"Hey, look, I know it's late, but do you think that maybe we could—" Kurt blushed and Puck picked up immediately what he was asking.

"Uh, come in," Puck said, and Kurt walked past him, smelling a lot like cookies and that nice perfume he used. He led Kurt up to his room and shut the room behind them. "So . . ."

Kurt shrugged out of his coat and Puck stalked up to him, letting his phone slip from his fingers to the floor, while helping Kurt out of his clothes. "No alcohol?" Puck asked confused—it had been Kurt's rule.

"I have to drive back home," he murmured, feeling Puck's hands drag over his waist, lifting up the crème colored turtle neck before throwing it behind him. Half naked, matching Puck, Kurt began to warm to the touch of the other boy, just wanting to hide underneath the covers forever, orgasm after orgasm, and maybe a little bit of talking.

"You know, most people have sex when they're sober," Puck muttered, unbuckling the porcelain boy's belt as Kurt kicked off his shoes, pushing down his jeans. The expanse of Kurt's legs was amazing—Kurt shaved, and while it was weird to see him so hairless, it was nice to feel when they rolled around in the sheets, legs wrapped around each other, thrusting to meet the edge.

Kurt giggled as he raised his hands of the smooth flesh, waking goosebumps as they moved. "I suppose I'll have to forgo that one unspoken rule. You're going to live with me—I can't be drunk all the times we do it," he said realistically. "Besides, I kind of want to know what it's like."

"What?" Puck asked, pushing Kurt towards the bed, then climbing on top of him.

"Sex. Sober. With you." Kurt pulled Puck's mouth down to his and then pushed Puck away. He sat up, pulling his legs to his chest, resting his forehead on his knees.

"What?" Puck sat back on his heels, staring down at Kurt. Something was wrong with him, and if it meant forgetting about sex to find out, Puck supposed he could do it, even though he was half hard and the skin that Kurt bared was driving his tongue crazy with the need to taste it all. "Kitty, what's wrong?"

Kurt smirked fondly at his new nickname and sighed. "Blaine called."

Puck pursed his lips realizing this would go two ways—and the one that ended with sex wasn't the ending he'd had in mind. "And?"

Kurt bit his lip. "I want to forget about him."

Puck was confused now. His eyes gazed over the naked skin of the other boy, lying so freely in his bed, unashamed at the nakedness he portrayed. Puck liked his new found confidence, but it was coming with a price.

"I came over her to have you make me forget about him, Puck."

He grinned, rolling his eyes, even though it sort of hurt that he was being used at Kurt's expense to forget the boy he was once in love with. "So let's forget about him," Puck said, crawling over Kurt's lithe form as the pale boy stretched out beneath him.

Puck lowered himself over him, pressing their mouths together, relishing in the fact that Kurt was pulling him closer, the little moans Kurt made like little electric shocks that jolted his body and made his cock rock hard.

"Hey, Kitty?"

Kurt smiled. "I like when you call me that, you know," he whispered, reaching up a hand to curl his fingers through the strip of hair of Puck's Mohawk.

Puck didn't smile though. He wanted to fuck Kurt senseless, but in the end, he didn't want Kurt to leave. He couldn't tell Kurt that though, because then he would sound like an absolute pussy, but still, he wanted Kurt to be there.

"Could you stay the night?"

Kurt's eyes widened just a little bit and he bit his lip. "We're not in a relationship."

Puck shrugged. "I know."

"So why would I stay the night?" Kurt pushed him back, sitting up to look over at Puck, the beautiful planes of his face, the lovely golden hue that colored his flesh, that rich brown of his eyes, flecked with just enough green to make them so very unique. Kurt was confused though. Why was Puck doing this to him?

"Because I want you to?"

Kurt looked away. He liked Puck. He could admit that much. It was bad for him, especially since Puck didn't really have a reputation for keeping relationships strong. But he found himself wanting to spend the night, waking up to the boy lying next to him, something solid and warm next to him, not at all just an illusion of his mind.

"This is dangerous, Puck." Kurt looked at him, visions connection before lying back on the pillows, turning on his side to keep Puck's gaze.

"I know." Puck reached out to lay a hand on Kurt's his, clothed only in boxers, but he traced the naked hipbone jutting out, the hickey that was as dark as a bruise painted on to his lovely pale skin.

"You want me to?"

"What I want is for you to stop pushing me away," Puck said finally. "I know we started this thing with, like, no strings at all. And it was just like that. But maybe, I sort of like you Kurt. And maybe, I asked to come along to LA because I don't want you to leave. And yeah, I sound like a fucking girl, because I don't talk about my feelings, but every time I think about you with another dude, I flip my shit because I'm so fucking jealous that I don't get to be that guy."

Kurt smiled and closed his eyes. "You like me?"

"Yeah. Is—Is that okay?"

Kurt laughed, a tinkling sound that Puck had missed and yeah, that look on his face? He wasn't thinking at all about that fucking hobbit at all.


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own Glee. All mistakes are my own. Wah, wah, wah.**

**Okay, I decided to post this. It's super short, but it's sort of important, and next chapter we get to see LA. :') Though I should give you a little smut beforehand. **

**This story weighs heavily on sex. I hope you don't mind. ;)**

* * *

><p>They're not together.<p>

It's late morning when they wake up, slick with sweat, sticky with dried come, and bodies entangled close together. Kurt curls closer into Noah's body, searching for the searing heat despite the torturous temperature in the room. Kurt just wants to fall back to sleep.

Noah wraps his arms around the soprano, pulling him indefinitely closer before Kurt allows Noah to slide on top of him. It's hot, and Kurt so badly wants a shower, but Noah is here, and he's kissing him, and fuck, he's so turned on.

Noah drags his mouth over the pale column of Kurt's neck, mouthing kisses, letting his tongue dart out to taste the salty sweat that beads over his flawless skin. Kurt moans softly, fingers running through Noah's hair, keeping him close. Legs curl around Noah's hips and they rock together, hard and unrelenting, but slow and peaceful, different from last night's volcanic passion.

Noah slithers a hand between them and Kurt's sighing into the room, quiet as the sun rises, coating their bodies in a wondrous glow, and Noah's sort of mesmerized as he watched Kurt unravel in his hands, rocking up to meet his hips, Noah's fingers working him open, even though he's still stretched from the night before. It's so sexy, the sexiest thing he's seen ever, and he wants to get to the finish line to see Kurt break apart.

"Noah," Kurt murmurs, and it's a sound Noah wants to hear over and over again. He just never wants to leave the bed. He wants to know Kurt, the solid planes of his body, the lines of his muscles, the story of his scars. But this is now, and he's not getting that. He's getting Kurt writhing underneath him, grasping a smile hand around Noah's cock as Noah thrusts his fingers inside of him, their sounds mixing together, the smell of their sex covering their bodies and lingering in the air.

Noah kisses Kurt, slowly, taking his time to tear Kurt Hummel apart. He slicks his cock with the lube just out of reach underneath Kurt's pillow and sighs when he slides in, Kurt's fingernails digging into his back, pulling him closer. Neither of them say anything, but fuck if they don't feel it.

They entwine their hands, fingers grasping as Noah is flush against Kurt's body, moving gently, hardly moving at all. Their hips meet, a thrusting, writhing mess as they fight to be closer, as Noah's groan's Kurt's name into his ear and Kurt is clawing his nails down his back, holding on, and for god's sakes pulling Noah deeper. Kurt moans again and again, chanting Noah's name like it's keeping him grounded. Noah buries his face in Kurt's throat, sucking dark marks into his flesh, telling Kurt that even though he's fighting it, Kurt is his.

Kurt is trying to fight it though. Because there's too much affection. Too much beauty. This shouldn't be happening. They aren't supposed to fall for each other. They are supposed to fuck when they were drunk, but this, the gently rhythm of their hips, the hypnotic twists of their tongues as their lips meet, it makes tears prickle in Kurt's eyes and he can't hold it back anymore.

"Oh, Noah, I'm . . ."

"Let go, Kurt. I want to see you like this," Noah replies, pressing deep kisses to Kurt's mouth. He holds Noah so close, tightening his legs around the taller boy's hips, pulling him closer, deeper, until Kurt's silently screaming as he brushes that gorgeous spot inside of his body.

Noah's saying his name. It's a low growl and it's the one thing that Kurt needs to push him over the edge. Their hips rock together, syncopated in a perfect harmony as Noah continues to thrust inside of him, their sweat slicked bodies sliding together.

Kurt throws back his head and cries out Noah's name locking eyes with Noah, clear blue on a fused hazel green and Kurt breaks. He comes and he's crying and Noah pauses for a second before Kurt claws his nails into his back. He thrusts until he comes and collapses on Kurt, and kisses his tears away. He slips out of Kurt and there's the tiniest sigh. Kurt feels empty, even though Noah's body covers his fully. There is something about having Noah so deep inside of him that makes him feel . . .

"Kitty?"

"This wasn't supposed to happen, Puck," Kurt says. He turns his face to the side, looking out of the window when the sun rose and was shining gloriously.

The use of his nickname stings a bit since Kurt had started calling him 'Noah'. "But it did."

Kurt nods. "I know. I'm not sure how I feel about it though. I—didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't mean to turn you gay," he mutters wryly, a form of a smile curling his lips.

"I think that ship has sailed. And I think it's my fault for checking out your ass in those jeans anyway," Puck teases. And suddenly, everything is okay.

"So you want to be with me?" Kurt asks, looking up with enormous, shining, bright blue eyes and Noah blushes. Kurt frowns though. "I don't know if I'm ready for a relationship right now, Noah," he mumbles quietly.

Noah looks a tiny bit defeated, but there's no way he's walking away from this, from Kurt. Sure, they have great sex, but this, the talking, the bitch faces, the tears, the laughing—Noah wants all of it, and he wants it for himself damn it. So Noah looks down at Kurt, reaches to smooth the hair from his forehead. Suck a tender moment, but Kurt simply smiles because he knows exactly what it means.

"I'll wait until you're ready, Kurt. Besides. I still have some growing up to do," Noah says with a light chuckle.

And there it is.

Kurt is watching as two things happen before his eyes: Noah is changing rapidly from Puck to Noah, from sex-friend to boyfriend material, and it's happening so very very rapidly.

Kurt can also see that Noah, is changing. He's admitting his mistakes, and learning from them .

He's becoming a man and Kurt smiles.

"I'm ready," Kurt murmurs, looking at the lively glow of Noah's face.

"Hey! I can't grow up that fast!" he says, and Kurt laughs tiredly. "Are you serious?" Noah asks when Kurt sobers.

Kurt nods. "We'll take it slow, Noah. I mean I don't know if going to LA in an exclusive relationship is a wise decision. We'll keep it open, and you can still have your own room. If you find a pretty girl you want to fuck, go for it. Or a boy, as I can see you're not picky," Kurt teased. Noah cracked a smile.

Noah sighed, pressing a kiss to the marred column of Kurt's neck. "I'll take it, only because I know that I can win you over, Kurt. It's going to take a while maybe, but if you don't get tired of me . . . I just . . . It's like you're the only person that cared about me. I went to juvie and you came to visit me. Even though it was only once. I didn't have rides to school and suddenly you were there. I'm a dick, I know that. But you? No. You can be a little bitchy—" to which earned Noah a tiny laugh from Kurt "—but you're the kindest person ever. You're sweet. And damn if you don't make a good housewife. Not to mention you are sexy as hell."

Kurt burst s into laughter and shakes his head. He reaches up, idly wondering when Noah started having feelings for him.

They kiss slowly, sensually, taking their time to work themselves back up from the orgasm to make love over and over again, until it's time to shower and leave the house and get on the plane.

Kurt watches as Noah dresses, in jeans and a few long sleeved sweaters with a heavy jacket over. Of all the men he's had the pleasure of fucking, he's never wanted to stay in someone's bed more than he did Noah's. He'd thought, his entire high school career, that he would have to leave Lima to fall in love. Who knew that it was waiting for him right here? Of all places.

He's standing in the doorway, having paused adjusting his scarf when Noah looks up and shoots him a gentle smile. Noah walks over to Kurt and helps him with his scarf, even though they fully know that Noah will get the adjustment wrong, and Kurt will just have to readjust it all over again.

But there's something achingly beautiful about the fact that they're standing so close together, and for once, it's not at all about sex. They look up at the same time and lock eyes and Noah shoots him that smile again.

Noah looks at Kurt with wonder in his eyes. No, he'd never thought he'd like a boy this much, but he does and it's this boy that's it for him. Because Kurt just knows exactly how to tame him. He doesn't want to fuck other people. He just wants Kurt, and he hopes it doesn't take Kurt long to realize it.

And Kurt? Well he just can't help falling in love with a perfect smile.


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't own Glee and all mistakes are my own. **

**Here's a new chapter. I hate that this story is so hard to write. And sorry if I make Puck a little mushy. I always see him that way when he's with Kurt, you know? But this is the result of chapter five. I hope you guys like it because you're stuck with it. :') **

**Thanks for reading, and enjoy. **

The flight had been long and Puck was tired. Kurt was leaning against him as they walked up the steps to Kurt's house, an old little cottage, tiny but perfect for Kurt. Puck had always imagined Kurt living in some super posh apartment but this—it suited the pale soprano absolutely perfectly. It was clean, but cluttered, books and magazines on every surface, the furniture appearing lived in rather than brand-spanking-new, and the walls were written on, notes and quotes and pictures. He didn't fail to notice a stick figure replica of the glee club, a Mohawk and bow-tie standing together at the far end.

Kurt ushered him inside and they set their luggage down, lazily moving towards one another. It wasn't dark, but they didn't need light to find each other's bodies, to peel away the layers of clothing, to kiss with a lazy, yet so very heated passion that had become the norm for them. It never changed. It had always been this hot, this fiery between them, and if anything, over time, it just became infinitely stronger, hotter, and a hell of a lot more passionate.

Kurt liked serving Puck with his body. Every limb and muscle knew Puck, responded as the jock eased him into the bed, not bothering to pull back the blankets. Naked, they collided together, grinding into each other as their mouths continued teasing. Hard and aching, Noah's body responded to Kurt's. Everything was hot and their skin burned at each other's touch. Kurt didn't hesitate to reach under his pillow for a half full bottle of lube, pouring the liquid haphazardly onto Noah's fingers. Kurt spread his legs and let Noah's fingers find his opening, moaning softly and Noah worked him, stretched him. It was a fiery sensation and Kurt clawed at Noah's back, leaving long red stripes in the wake of his fingernails.

"Do you like that, Kitty?" Noah grunted into Kurt's ear, relishing as Kurt moaned in the affirmative.

"Yes, Noah, yes, I love it," he whimpered. Kurt was finished with the preparation. He needed Noah, and he needed him now, and he didn't care if it hurt. "I need you inside of me," Kurt gasped. "I want your cock."

"Condom?" Puck asked softly, and Kurt shook his head.

"No. I want to feel you inside of me, fill me up with your come, Noah. _Claim_ me."

Noah wasn't one to hesitate when Kurt started spouting off demands. He looked down, where Kurt's aching cock rested against his stomach, red and dribbling precome, further down to his open hole, where Noah lined his cock up and slid in without resistance. Kurt cried out and bucked his hips, puling Puck's mouth down to his. They didn't kiss, only breathed each other's expelled breaths as Noah rammed into him, balls deep until Kurt was arching, gasping for air.

Their hips met, Noah's thrusts unrelenting as Kurt wound his lithe legs around Noah's hips, pulling him deeper. Noah set one forearm off to the side of Kurt's head, the other gripping into the slender man's hips, thrusting until there was a string of vibrant vocabulary pouring from Kurt's mouth. Noah loved hearing Kurt cuss a storm; it was sexy knowing he could break Kurt that way, to have the man drop his inhibitions and leave him completely lost for words. He loved it desperately.

"Fuck, Kurt," he grunted and Kurt's eyes flew open, meeting Noah's vision as they fucked, bodies slick with sweat, sliding against each other. Noah's body was hot against Kurt's, his cock heavy and deep inside of him, brushing that delicate spot inside of him, reckless as Kurt cried out, _screaming_, his throat hoarse.

"Oh—Noah, baby, I love it when you fuck me," he managed, broken and moaning as Puck picked up his speed, taking Kurt's legs and lifting them onto his flexing shoulders. Kurt just about broke as Puck never softened his thrusts, never slowed his speed. He could feel Noah so very deep inside of him.

"Baby, baby, I—I'm going to—" Kurt came with a broken cry, eyes clenched shut as he poured ribbon after ribbon of come, Noah still working for his own release. And then he bit down on Kurt's neck, filling Kurt up with his own come, panting as Puck continued to thrust inside of him.

He slumped against the pale man, and Puck just peppered kisses over his neck, sucking the flesh until it was obscenely marred all over. Kurt shivered as he felt Puck harden inside of him again.

"All night?" Kurt asked with a lazy smile.

Puck grins in return. "All night, Kitty."

* * *

><p>Puck opened his eyes, his body achy and spent. He knew why—the second Kurt had crossed the threshold of the apartment and into the big bed in the master bedroom, they hadn't gotten out of it.<p>

Making love-Puck cringed as he thought of sex with Kurt that way; there was no possible way fucking him against the desk, and the walls, and the windows, and on the floor, and of course, the last time on the bed, that it could be called love making. But Puck felt strongly towards Kurt. The only reason they fit so well together was because they knew each other's bodies. Having sex with Kurt beat having sex with a stranger because in the end, Puck would forget the name of the girl he was fucking and she wouldn't know how to pleasure him just right.

And now, since he was thinking about it, he reached forward to find an empty bed. Someone gasped and it startled him.

"Are you my present? Because I don't think the wood you're sporting is going to fit," the person commented. He knew immediately that it wasn't Kurt. But what was someone else doing in Kurt's bedroom? Not embarrassed of his body he almost decided to keep himself uncovered, but then thought twice. He could hear Kurt's voice in his head, something about modesty.

Puck looked up, brow furrowed. "Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Ryan. Kurt's roommate."

Puck blinked at the blonde and frowned. "I thought Kurt said he needed a new roommate?"

Ryan shrugged. "He told me that you were his boyfriend and that you could share a room . . . unless you're not his boyfriend, because I'm about ready to pounce." He shrugged his blonder hair from his forehead, green eyes shining playfully.

"Ryan, I said to let Noah sleep!" He heard Kurt hiss from the doorway peeking inside. "Oh! You're awake."

"Kurt, I'm confused," Puck said, lying back against the bed. He had a headache and he wasn't feeling too well, and seeing this Ryan person hanging around Kurt wasn't making him feel any better.

"About?" Kurt turned to Ryan and frowned. "Give us a minute?" Ryan left the room closing the door behind him. Kurt strolled over to Puck, sitting on the bed beside him. "Baby, what's wrong?" Kurt whispered, lying back to take Puck into his arms.

"Who is he?" Puck demanded, not trying to let the jealousy poison his tone.

"He's Ryan. And he's my ex. And he sort of left me, and then sort of came groveling back."

Puck sighed. "So you want to be with him, then?"

Kurt laughed, a soft sensual sound in Puck's ear. "Are you jealous?" he asked, pressing a kiss to his throat, sucking the flesh.

". . . no."

Kurt laughed again and kissed Puck's temple. Puck turned on his side, taking Kurt against his chest. "I told you we'd give it a go. No, I don't want Ryan. He's sweet and good in bed, but nothing beats the way you look at me."

Puck shook his head. "Is he better than me?"

Kurt shook his head. "Uh-uh. No one can make me scream like you can. I saw my neighbor, Crissy this morning and she blushed so hard she ran back into her apartment. Such a prude."

Puck frowned, however, looking down at Kurt, at his messy hair and his shiny skin and his dazed smile. "But we're not in a relationship?"

Kurt hesitated. "It's hard for me, Noah. I just—they ruined it. I don't know if I can set myself up for heartache." Kurt's words pierced Puck and he winced. It was like the one time Puck decides to go and love someone, they won't love him back. And it sucks major ass.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Kitty. You really don't know how much I want you. You're—I think about you constantly and it's really hard when I want to be with you but you keep shooting me down. We're getting closer to being exclusive, but you're just—why are you keeping your options open if you're not sleeping with anyone?" Puck rubs his eyes in frustration and sighs.

"Baby, you have to understand that—I'm doing this because the second you find someone better than me, I wouldn't have attached myself to you and it won't hurt as much."

Puck laughed and Kurt frowned, pulling away from him.

"Why are you laughing, Noah?" Kurt said, defeated almost and Puck pulling Kurt close to his body.

"That's just it, Kitty. I'm not going to find anyone else. I'm totally yours, and totally whipped."

Kurt grinned. "Whipped? Really?"

"Baby, come on. If you can't see it, then there's something wrong with you. This shit is so past telling me to jump and me asking how high."

Kurt smiled. "And that's exactly how it should be."

Puck laughed and nuzzled Kurt's neck, dropping soft kisses before sucking the flesh into his mouth. Kurt whimpered, curling his legs around Puck's hips, drawing his body closer to his, grinding their hips together.

"Noah, baby, we can't. I have to be at work in an hour and I still haven't showered," Kurt moaned, winding his arms around the broad shoulders of his boyfriend, pulling him closer despite his words.

Puck pulled back slightly, pressing a lazy kiss to his mouth. "I'll make it quick."

Kurt shook his head. "No, no way. The last time we 'made it quick', I was two hours late and I had the taste of your come in my mouth. I'm not doing it again."

"Whatever, Kurt. You like the taste of my come."

Kurt grinned crudely, grabbing Puck's cock in his hand, giving it a few tugs. "I do."

Puck groaned. "Please, Kitty?"

"Ugh, don't _Kitty _me," Kurt giggled, pushing at Noah's shoulder. "We just had sex a few hours ago."

"So?"

"Oh, my god, Noah. You have a problem."

"At least let me give you a blowjob."

Kurt sighed and shook his head, but Puck was already working his way down Kurt's stomach, long licks tasting his flesh and Kurt stopped protesting when his cock was enveloped in a warm, wet heat and his heart lurched.

"Oh, Noah, baby, that's so-hnnng-good. So good baby," Kurt mewled, curling his fingers into the dark strip of hair on top of Puck's head. He opened his eyes and met Puck's vision, the lusty hazel eyes, the pink lips wrapped around his thick length, that tongue peeking out to swirl around the swollen head of his cock. "Holy, fuck, God, please, I just, oh."

Puck sucked and licked, watching Kurt unravel beneath his mouth. Kurt's eyes were half lidded, staring into him as he pulled off, licking crudely at his lips. "You like that, Kitty?"

"Hmm, yes, I—put your mouth back on my cock, Noah," Kurt pleaded and Puck grins before taking Kurt again.

Kurt screamed as Puck slid his teeth ever so gently against the sensitive underside. "Holy fuck—"

"Kurt! Could you shut up?" Ryan shouted from outside.

Puck chuckled and the vibrations shoved Kurt into a mind blowing orgasm that had him screaming as his body shuddered and jerked, spilling into Puck's mouth without warning. Puck choked and pulled back, grinning as he swallowed.

"Jeeze. Let a guy know when you're going to blow your load."

"I'm sorry! Ryan distracted me and then your lips and holy fuck." Kurt lay back and panted. "There's no way I'm going to work on time."

Puck grinned covering Kurt's body with his own, fingers finding his opening, still stretched from the night before. "I didn't think so."

* * *

><p>Kurt was an hour late to the office, laptop and next month's Nylon in hand, sitting at his desk listening to his messages. After lunch, Cassie sauntered in, perching herself on the edge of his big mahogany desk, a great big smile on her face.<p>

"You totally got laid," she giggled. She fingered one of the visible hickeys on his neck uncovered by the scarf he wore.

Kurt shrugged. "Yeah, and?" He was smiling, lazy with twinkling eyes.

"I've never seen you glow like this," she smiled prettily, throwing her long brown hair over her shoulder. "You're in love, huh."

Kurt grinned. "Not quite, but he's a good guy. Works with his hands and brings me to all kinds of happiness. I would be scared if he couldn't. And he's sexy as hell, Cass. Like, you'll have to see him. He's super smart, and—and I've known him since high school. We've been sleeping together since senior year, and then the night before we came here, he asked me to be in a relationship with him. He wants exclusivity, but I'm not sure I'm ready for him that way. I don't know what to do if I fall in love, Cass."

Cassie sighed, her dreamy face clouded with content. "Baby doll, look. You fall in love and you go with it."

Kurt smiled. "I know. But we're not even exclusive yet."

"And what' the hell is stopping you?"

"Blaine and his—I'm so insecure. He broke up with me, cheated on me with Jeremiah, and then Ryan goes and leaves me. Noah's got a rep, Cass, I can't dive head first into a relationship. Fuck, what if he gets bored of me?"

Cassie laughed. "Of you? Never! You're gorgeous, and laid back and kind and sometimes bitchy but you're our boss so it's expected, but I think he's got the perfect guy on his arm. You've just got to realize it." She paused. "So what about that jock that you were sleeping with in Lima? How does he feel that you're in a relationship."

"Cassie, that's who I'm talking about," he said with a smile.

"But you always complain about him! How he's fucking other people and he flirts like mad and then he gave you the bracelet . . . you brought him with you—"

"Cassie! There's someone looming over your desk," Lila, Kurt's secretary, came into Kurt's office whispering dramatically. "He's got lilies."

Kurt smiles softly and shoos Cassie away to her desk to go get her man. But Kurt's curiosity eats him up and he stands to find out who Cassie has snagged this time. His eyes set on a Mohawk, and he giggles to himself.

Cassie grins up at him, flipping back her hair flirtatiously. "So, how can I be of _service _to you?" she asks throatily and Kurt fights to just double over with laughter. That girl can sure lay it on thick.

Puck frowns. "I was wondering if I could maybe see Kurt Hummel."

"Kurt? Why? He's busy. You have to go away. He has a boyfriend."

Puck grins. "Is that what he told you guys? Because last time I checked he was pretty interested in seeing me."

Cassie shakes her head. "No way, Mohawk. Kurt's in an exclusive relationship with a really good guy. And lilies? They were so last season."

"How about you let Kurt out to see me?" He rolls his eyes and stares her down. She pouts, thrusting a hand on her hip.

"Fine. But when you get shot down, don't say I didn't warn you!" She sings to him and goes to where Kurt is standing off to the side, holding back a shriek of laughter.

"Kurt, that guy is here to see you. Super-hot, but not worth cheating on your boyfriend for."

Kurt can't hold it anymore and practically suffocates from screaming in amusement. "Cassie-Cass, sweetie, that is my boyfriend. And lilies are my favorite flower, thank you very much." Kurt shakes his head as he walks over to where Puck is standing at Cassie's desk.

Kurt quirks an eyebrow. "What are you doing? My other boyfriend might see you here. He's a football player, big and strong, you know. Good looking, too."

Puck smirks and attacks Kurt's lips with his own, nipping at his bottom lip before mingling their tongues.

"Puck, I'm at work!"

There are catcalls and whistles and Kurt turns around red and embarrassed. "Hands off my man, bitches," Kurt teases and drags Noah back into his office, not bothering to draw the blinds. Doing so would tempt him to let Noah take him against the desk.

Kurt presses against Noah, still so very horny despite the satisfaction of this morning. "I missed you," Kurt says cheekily. He grins and Noah wraps his arms around Kurt's waist, pulling him closer. They're just gazing at each other, staring into each other's eyes, not so much as blinking.

"So," Kurt says finally, breaking away from Noah. He likes Puck. He really does. The things he says, the things he does, the way he can service his body so well . . . he just doesn't want the aching heart break that comes along with loving someone. "Have you found anything, yet?"

"It's been a day, Kurt," Puck says, sitting in Kurt's lap in front of the desk. It's sexy to see the wicked gleam in Kurt's eyes, knowing that Kurt's usually the submissive partner in practice, but definitely dominating. Puck doesn't mind. Sure, he can bury his cock in Kurt's ass, but still, the man just doesn't give up bossing people around. But Puck? He's always thought about what it would be like, to have Kurt dominate him that way. Because Kurt's not a girl and they're equals and all that shit. Yeah, sure, when Kurt's on top, that's about as dominating as it got for him, but Puck's thinking about having Kurt's cock inside of him, riding the pale slender boy, screaming Kurt's name until his throat is raw.

Whoa. Since when is Puck such a cockslut? Puck doesn't say anything and neither does Kurt. At least not about fucking each other senseless.

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know. I was thinking about college."

Kurt quirks an eyebrow at Puck, thoroughly surprised that Puck's owning up to his intelligence. "Really? I'm surprised. I thought you were going to be a hidden genius forever," Kurt teases. "But that's great. What do you want to study?"

"I don't know. Psychology, maybe. Probably anthropology. UCLA has got some really good programs. I think maybe I could try out for football and see where that takes me." Puck shrugged.

"But you hate football," Kurt comments. "Baby, look, I think you're smart enough to get in without having to play some stupid sport. You hate football. Don't play it. Why not try out for soccer or basketball?"

Puck shrugs. "I'm good at football. And I don't hate it. Not completely. It's just a waste of time running around and hitting guys."

Kurt laughs. "Baby, that was what you did all through high school. On and off the field."

Puck shakes his head grinning.

"I'll look into for you and pull some strings. You're smart enough, but your GPA doesn't show that."

Puck frowns. "That's why I need football. Look, Tanaka and Beiste-they favored Finn because he's a nice guy-" Kurt scoffs "-and because he's popular and doesn't have a criminal record. But me? I'm so much better than him. Hell I remember countless times where I wrote the play for him. I'm good at football kitty. And it goes hand in hand with anthropology anyway. I can study the low level of intelligence of football players. You know, since you say they're all so brainless."

Kurt smiles. "You're not brainless. Cocky and shallow, but you're smart as fuck, and man do you know your way around a cock."

Puck shakes his head. "I take your virginity and you're a cock monster."

Kurt raises an eyebrow. "I've always been like this Puck. I've just never had someone to talk to about it."

Puck smiles and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Kurt's mouth. "When are you going to let me in, Kurt?"

The pale, slender man is quiet, almost as if he's thinking of a response for Puck. But he just shrugs. "I don't know, Noah. I want you. I want you so bad. And I know I should risk it . . ." his voice drops to a whisper. "But I'm just—I'm so scared, Noah. I know you won't hurt me, but—but what if I hurt myself?"

Puck shakes his head, gathering Kurt into his arms. "I came here for you, Kurt. Ass fucking cheesy as it sounds, I really want this to work. I want—I want there to be an 'us'. I want to be able to call you my boyfriend and shit. I don't want to have to worry about coming home and finding you wrapped around some guy. I want you to want me as much as I want you."

Kurt smiles and he tugs Puck closer. "I do. I do want you. So much."

"So what's stopping you?"

Kurt smiles again pulling back. "Noah Puckerman, I think you just won me over."

Puck laughs and doesn't hesitate for a second to dive in for a kiss, hot and heavy, tongues fighting and teeth clashing and their hands groping for the warmth of flesh. But soon enough, their kiss turns lazy and soft and gentle, until they break apart, shallow breaths shared between their close proximity.

"Good. I think we should celebrate," Puck said, curling his fingers into Kurt's hair.

"How?"

"Dinner? I'll make you dinner tonight. And no, Ryan is not invited."

Kurt smiles, the glint in his eye exciting to Puck. "I—I'd like that."

Puck smiles and steals another kiss from Kurt before leaving the office.

He'd gone from no-strings sex to full on relationship with the boy that used to make his life hell. Well, Puck still made his life hell, but it was for an entirely different reason. One involving a serious case of falling in love.


	6. Chapter 6

**I don't own Glee and all mistakes are my own. **

**So I have a problem with typos. Some of them are funny, others are just annoying, and if one of you lovely Puckurtsies would like to be my beta, I'm all for it, omg. So just PM me or something, so we can move along. Thank you.**

**And now, this is just mostly a filler. TBH I don't really like Mercedes. Never really did. And I don't now, especially in this season. But Santana? Yeah, she's a bitch, but she's my fave, HBIC, aside from Kurt and well, I think Kurtana beats Kurtcedes. Anyway. He's a filler. It's shit, I know. But I didn't want to leave you hanging. Especially since the next few chapters are going to be a little . . . I don't even know. But here you go. **

* * *

><p>Kurt sat on the edge of the bed, gushing about Puck's newfound fluffy side on the phone and Santana made annoying retching sounds on the other side. He laughed but Santana ended up in giggles, both of them light heartedly making fun of Puck. It had been three months since they'd gotten together, and he hadn't ever been happier. He'd been in the middle of working on a six page spread, Blake Lively as their cover girl. He used the much needed break to take a breather, joking around with Santana as he cuddled in their bed that smelled like sex and vanilla and woods and man. It was Kurt's most favorite scent in the world.<p>

"San, I think-I think I might love him," Kurt said finally.

He could hear glass breaking. "What? And why are you waiting to tell _me_ this? You should be telling him."

"San! Calm down. I can't just call him. He's working," Kurt reprimanded. Santana huffed.

"While I'm glad you're getting all mushy with him, don't you think that you should just let him know? You've been living together for three months, fucking for like, a year, and I think, he should know you feel this way about him. Look, I'm your best friend, but Puck is like my brother. Well, not really, because of our history. But Puck will always mean the world to me." Santana sighed and Kurt smiled.

"Can I ask you something?" Kurt breathed, closing his eyes.

"Shoot, baby."

"When you and Puck used to sleep together, it used to be more than—than just sex, huh?"

Santana paused. He could hear her thinking, as if she was trying to spare his feelings. "Kurt, you—I—I was in love with him. He—when we slept together, he picked me up, made me whole again. No one ever did that. Yeah sure, I was a slut for his cock, but—it's—it's not a surprise I have major daddy issues. When my dad left me, he made me feel better about myself. "Puck" is just a big front. He's the mushiest shithead in the world. You know that now. But when it was just me and him, just Santana and Noah, yeah, it was more than sex. He would tell me how beautiful I was, and he would cuddle me until I stopped crying. Sometimes, when he climbed through my window at night, he would just come to make sure I was okay. Not for sex but because my sanity is important to him. And I loved him for that. Of course, I love Brittney, even though she's engaged to Mike. . .

"Kurt, I loved him a lot. He was—was never a Lima Loser to me. He was the only man that cared about me and it's—sometimes, I think he tried to replace Beth with me. Because my dad was shit and he didn't have his baby girl. I hated Quinn for giving up that baby-that she's running around with Frankenteen. Don't tell her, but I'm glad that Rachel—that she found someone else." Santana sighed, shuffling around.

Kurt smiled listening to Santana praise Rachel. And if he listened closely, he could hear a twinge of sadness in the undertones of her voice.

"I mean, I think Rachel deserves her dreams. You and her. You were the only ones brave enough. I couldn't even come out because—because I was scared that everyone would treat me the way they treated you. And the first time they called me a fag, I fucking flipped. But Rachel, she helped me rinse the slushee from my hair, and let me borrow some clothes—a fucking animal sweater." Santana's laugh was distant, reminiscent almost and Kurt's heart fluttered at the sound. "She has the prettiest eyes, you know. They're brown, but they have this hint of green, that kind of pops, and you just, like, fucking drown or something—"

"San," Kurt interrupted with an enormous smile. "Don't get mad at me, but are you in love with Rachel?"

There was an enormously pregnant pause, and Santana said, finally, "She doesn't swing my way, Kurt." He realized then that the sad note he heard in her voice was heartbreak, unrequited love. Kurt wondered if Puck ever sounded like that. He didn't want Puck to eve sound like that.

"Santana, you don't know that. I think the reason Rachel hated Quinn so much in high school was because she had the biggest crush on the girl." Kurt laughed. "Quinn doesn't swing, but I'm ninety eight and a half percent sure Rachel does."

Santana sighed and cursed. "She's in New York Kurt, doing some big Broadway number, kissing ass to judges and shit. And she's with that stupid Jesse-guy. How can I compete? They look at each other and think the sun shines out of their asses. I'm a dancer with eight dollars in my bank account."

Kurt shook his head. "But you use your talent, San—Rachel will appreciate something like that. And Rachel has never been one for money.—that was me. Even though I wouldn't care if Noah was dirt poor or filthy rich—I love him all the same. But you have a chance, San. Don't waste it."

"I wish I had the lady balls in high school to ask her. Even for just a kiss."

"Sanny. Just call her. Ask her if you can go up for a visit. Then confess your undying, ironic love for the girl you used to torture in high school. Noah did for me."

Santana laughed despite saying, "That's not funny, Hummel."

Kurt chuckles. "I thought so."

"Can it, bitch. This is your idea. So if I get rejected and she kicks me out of New York, I'm going straight to your cute little cottage by the beach, and I will castrate you in your sleep. No. Regrets."

Kurt laughed. "Deal, babe."

There was shouting on the other end of the line, and Santana groaned. "That would be Chastity. Club opens in an hour so I better get my ass moving. I'll talk to you later or some shit," she said.

"Kay. Tell me how the call with Rachel goes."

Santana sighed. "Right. Love you."

"Love you, too."

Kurt tossed his phone on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. It was almost seven, and Puck wasn't home yet. Usually he would be when he wasn't working (giving guitar lessons to kids) but it was late, and lessons usually didn't run that late.

Not a second later, he heard the front door open and Puck gracefully walked into the bedroom, climbing into bed. Kurt noted the smile on his face.

"And what were you up to today?" Kurt asked lazily. Puck looked up at him, threading their fingers together. He shrugged, but Kurt could tell it was a big deal.

"Nothing. Just signed up for some classes at UCLA. You know. Since I got in."

Kurt's eyes widened and his face broke out into a wide grin, laughing. "I. Told. You. So." He flicked the tip of Puck's nose with his finger, giggling. "I'm happy for you, Noah. I'm so happy. What—what are you majoring in?"

Puck shrugged. "Signed up for Anthropology. Thought it might be interesting. I have Psychology as a minor."

Kurt smiled. "Look at you. All college kid and shit."

"Yeah. It's kind of, kind of nice, you know. I thought it wasn't for me. But—but it is, I guess."

There was a comfortable silence between the pair and Kurt nuzzled into Puck's side.

"So I talked to San."

Puck looked at him, wonder in his eyes. "Yeah? What did she say?"

"Did you ever love her?"

Puck seemed to consider the question and shrug. "I guess. She was different with me than with everyone else."

Kurt smiled. "She told me as much. But did you know she's head over heels in love with Rachel?"

Puck's eyebrows raised and Kurt laughed. "No way."

"Yep."

"Huh."

"I know."

"So does Rach like her back?"

"Don't know."

Puck turned on his side to look at Kurt. Their visions lock and warmth floods Kurt. He's scared of love. He's scared that if he says it, they'll get too comfortable, and fall out just as easily. He loves Puck. But to admit it?

But he knows Puck loves him back. Why else would he swear off all women? Why else would he drop Lima to come to a place he's never been? Why would he make promises if he couldn't keep them?

Kurt fingers the snow flake charm on his charm bracelet. He's always known. Puck had fallen first, but who's to say, Kurt had fallen just as fast.

"Hey."

At Puck's voice, Kurt meets his eyes again. They're darker, warmer, heated with exhausted intensity.

"Yeah?" Kurt responds. It's a whisper, but Puck swallows it with a feather soft kiss. Kurt's hand flies to Puck's back, pulling him closer than he was before.

"I love you."

Kurt hums and smiles, shaking his head. He takes in a breath and closes his eyes. "Say it again."

"I love you."

"Again."

"I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you." Puck looks down at him, smiling brightly. "I really love you."

Kurt's eyes flash open and he looks up into those hazel eyes he loves so much, the ones that belong to the man he's fallen in love with. An unlikely story, one that would make Finn and his father undoubtedly flip their shit, but still, it happened, and for some reason, Kurt wasn't scared of it anymore. No reason to be.

"Hey," Kurt mumbles, pulling Puck on top of him, curling his legs around Puck's hips, drawing him closer.

"Yeah?" Puck asks, and Kurt smiles. "I love you too."


	7. Chapter 7

**I don't own Glee and all mistakes are my own. **

**I love me some Pezberry, baby.**

* * *

><p>Kurt woke up to find his phone vibrating into his back. He fished it out of the sheets and answered it without looking at the caller ID.<p>

"'lo?" Kurt answered, met with a sort of shrieking noise.

"Kurt Hummel. Kurt. Santana called me. And do you know what she wanted?"

Rachel was obviously excited, like he'd planned for, and Kurt smile. "I might."

She took in a big breath. "Just in case you don't, I'll explain. She phones me, just as I'm leaving a failed audition—a rare occurrence, but one nonetheless—and I see her name printed on the screen of my phone. Odd, because she's never once said something nice. Other than that time in senior year when she told me I had pretty eyes . . . Anyway, she calls, and asks if she can come see me. And of course, I shoot her down, because she's been so mean to me, and I didn't want to be plagues with negative energy. And then, AND THEN, she tells me she's got this enormous crush on me, and wants to date me. ME! Rachel Berry!"

Kurt laughs, quietly, as to not wake Noah who's sleeping soundly beside him. He traces a finger from Noah's temple to his lips, watching as the man doesn't even stir.

"And what did you say, Rach?"

"I said yes of course. And then we talked for hours. HOURS! And I—I can't believe how absolutely easy it is to like her. The real Santana. She told me about you and Puck, you know."

Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Did she now?"

Rachel laughs. "Relax. It's kind of nice knowing that Noah's in good hands. And Puck . . . he's good for you."

Kurt smiles. "He is."

"Well, I'll let you go. I forget time differences sometimes. It's got to be three in the morning for you."

Kurt yawns. "Just about."

Rachel giggles. "I really like her, Kurt."

"Good. Because she's head over heels for you. When that happened? I'm not sure. But it did and you should be happy. I think Santana would do anything for you right now."

"We could get married here."

"You could." Kurt pauses. "Are you?"

"I don't know! We haven't even gone on a first date. She's coming this weekend. To see me. And I—I dumped Jesse. I hope this lasts, Kurt." Rachel's voice is gentle, and Kurt admires the girl.

"It will. As for now. I'm going back to sleep. Good luck with San. Break her heart and I will rip the talent from your throat."

Rachel laughs again. "Got it. Night Kurtie."

"Night Rach."

He hangs up and sets his phone on the nightstand, climbing out of bed before tossing Noah another look. How did they get this far? How did they end up in love, in LA, in each other's arms?

Noah's first day of college is tomorrow. Kurt can't fathom the pride he has in Noah, the pride that someone as smart, as kind, as bad ass as Noah is all his. It's wonderful and scary and pretty and heart-warming all at the same time. Sure, Noah could clean up once in a while. Could stop cursing up a storm all the time, could stop leaving the freaking cap of the toothpaste off, but Kurt works around him, works with Noah.

No regrets. There aren't any. He thinks back on that first night when he lost his virginity. He never thought it would have ended in a relationship, with the both of them committing to each other. It was nerve-wracking. And he still hadn't told his father. Or Finn, or anyone who was still in Lima.

He sighed and walked into the kitchen, finding Ryan sitting at the table already, feet on the edge of the stained wood, reading what looked to be a comic book.

"Can't sleep?" Kurt asks gently and Ryan just looks at him.

"Where did we go wrong?" he asks. Kurt stares at him, a little incredulous, and a lot confused.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, how did we fall out of love?" Ryan stands and walks close to Kurt, reaching out and fingering a tendril before Kurt pushed him away.

"I don't know, Ryan. And I—I can't do this. I—I love Noah. And I'm not going to do anything to hurt him." Kurt's words are firm, but he hates seeing the hurt in Kurt's eyes.

"I don't get it. I did everything right," Ryan murmurs. Kurt shook his head, sighing.

"You cheated. Blaine cheated. Noah had to fight for me. I shot him down every time because of people like you and Blaine. People who didn't think I was good enough for them. I loved you, Ryan. But we were never right. I had to worry about you flirting with other people. I had to worry if I was good enough for you. I had to wonder where you were when twelve, one, two o clock in the morning hit and you were still gone. I hate to always wonder. I don't with Noah. I don't have to second guess one bit that he loves me. That he'd do anything for me. I've known him for a long time. And sure, he was an asshole for the first part. But when things got dangerous, he stepped up, even when my step-brother didn't. He held me, and took care of me, and he made me feel good about myself. But you?

"You never did that for me, Ryan. I was always wondering. And when you love someone, you don't make them wonder." Kurt turned and stalked towards the fridge, pulling out the milk before pouring some into a pot and heating it.

"I loved you, Kurt. I told you that every day," Ryan argued. His blonde hair and blue eyes made him look so innocent. The clouded look in his eyes, the slacking of his shoulders—Kurt remembered what it felt like to love him. But it was infinitely shadowed by the intricate love he felt for Noah. Incomparable. Nothing could ever compete with Noah.

"Telling me and showing me—two different things. And sleeping with the guy that flirts with you at work in our bed isn't exactly very convincing."

Ryan sighs. "I'm sorry. How many times do I have to tell you?" he mutters. There's a tensing of his shoulders that tells Kurt he's angry.

Kurt shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. I've forgiven you. I let you live here, even though I know Noah hates it. Why? Because you're still my friend Ryan. If Blaine came to me, needing something, I would try my hardest to get it for him. Why? Because he's my friend. But don't, for one second, think I'm going to abandon the best thing that's happened to me in forever because you still love me."

Ryan's eyes catch his and Kurt sighs. "I'm sorry. That was harsh," Kurt admits.

"No, you're right. I shouldn't even be here. And I'm sorry I poured this on you. I just, I see you and Puck, sitting on the couch or eating dinner or even laughing and . . . I just—I miss you."

Kurt smiles at him and Ryan smiles back.

"I—I should go to bed. I—I found an apartment close to work, so I should be out of your hair in a week. I just, I thought it would work to talk one more time." Ryan leans forward and gives Kurt a hug and Kurt hugs him back just as hard.

"You'll find him. And if he's anything like Noah, he'll be in the most unlikely package." Kurt grins and Ryan nods, retreating into the hallway.

Puck wasn't exactly ecstatic to hear Kurt's ex-boyfriend coming onto Kurt, but as he stood in the hallway, listening, he could hear that Kurt could defend himself quite nicely. He ducked back into the bedroom when he heard Ryan say he was going to bed. He waited until he heard the door to Ryan's bedroom close, and then finally came out himself, watching Kurt sit cross legged on the counter, nursing a mug of warm milk. Puck just stood off to the side, observing. Kurt's brow was furrowed and his muscles were tense, but as soon as Puck walked over to him, set a hand on his thigh, it all drained away and Kurt was looking up at him with a lazy smile.

"I thought you were still sleeping," Kurt murmured.

Puck smiled. "I was. Just woke up."

"You miss me?" Kurt mumbled cheekily and Puck laughed.

"Would it be hard to believe if I did?"

Kurt licked his lips and Puck's eyes followed the action. "Only a little."

Puck leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Kurt's warm lips, curving them into a smile. "I love you, kay?"

Kurt eyed him suspiciously and pressed his lips into a hard line. It was hard for Puck to distinguish if he was in trouble or not.

"How much did you hear?"

Puck sighed and said, "Somewhere around, '_How did we fall out of love'_."

Kurt looked down and Puck lifted his face up so their eyes met. "I'm not mad, Kurt. I just—I want you to know I'm not going anywhere. I won't hurt you. Because if you're hurt, I'm hurt, and I don't want that to happen."

Kurt smiled and blushed, sipping from his mug. "You're so sweet."

Puck shrugs. "I'm just telling the truth." Puck likes the way Kurt blushes. Likes the way he's still so shy, even after they've exposed their bodies countless times to each other. Sex is one thing, a different kind of vulnerability. But showing someone what you feel? That's a whole differing fucking ball game Puck doesn't quite know how to play. But Kurt's sort of teaching him the rules and they, well, they make a really good team together.

"Come on. You have class, and I have work. Doesn't do well to go it with nasty sleep deprived skin."

Puck grins and they walk back to the bedroom, shutting off lights and climbing in together.

Kurt pressed his body into Puck, Kurt's chest to Puck's back, and wrapped his arms around him. He knew what Kurt was doing. It was a reassurance tactic. Whenever Kurt felt that Puck doubted himself, doubting them, he would show Puck that it was real, that what they had was untouchable.

Kurt pressed a kiss into the soft skin of Puck's neck. "I love you okay?"

_And when you love someone, you don't make them wonder._

"Love you, too."

Puck walked to class, exhausted from his lack of sleep from the night before, but still very enthusiastic about his first day of class. A college kid. Who would have thought?

Apparently, Kurt, but Kurt saw the best things in him even when others were blind to his excellence.

Puck sat in the middle of the lecture room, not wanting to come off as apathetic or overly eager. He set a notebook on his desk, as well as the ten ton textbook, opening it to skim the first chapter, even though he'd studied the first five already. Anthropology was thrilling to him, the study of humans. He didn't know why, but he liked studying people. They were usually easy to read; humans were nothing but a bunch of clichés. They all claimed to be different, but they were all the same.

Puck skipped a few pages and continued reading until he heard the classroom door close, and a man walk inside. He froze in his seat. Wasn't sure why he was so tense, but he felt—something was off about the teacher. He recognized him, the lilting walk, and the musky, woods-like scent.

The teacher scanned the room and he looked at Puck most inquisitively and Puck just stared back, not knowing what to do. He just sat there and waited for his class to continue.

"Good morning, class. This is Sociology 101. Thanks for joining me. I know most of you, judging by the huge cups of coffee, probably want to go back to sleep. Believe me. Me too."

The voice wrapped around Puck and he just wanted to throw up, run away, and hide in his closet like those first few days when . . .

"So, I'm Mr. Puckerman, but you guys can call me, Jake."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Puck set his head down, he felt odd, scared, sick. He wanted Kurt, wanted Kurt to save him from this, because he knew, he just knew that undoubtedly, he was going to make a mess of this.

Puck raised his hand, looking directly at Mr. Puckerman.

"Yes, Mr. . ."

"Puckerman," Puck offered, frowning when his teacher looked confused. "Puckerman. As in Noah. As in your son."

The class gasped and Mr. Puckerman looked shocked, but Puck just stood up, gathering his things before stopping by the teacher's desk. He refused to think of this man as his father. How could he? He'd grown up without him. They were practically unrelated. He didn't know about Quinn, or Beth, or Kurt. _Kurt_, the man he would give his life for. Mr. Puckerman didn't know about his baby sister, about his mother, about anything.

Nothing.

"Noah—I—"

Puck shook his head. "Puck. You don't have the right to call me Noah."

"Right, Puck, I—"

"Save it. I'm dropping from the course." Puck shook his head as he walked out of the classroom, forgetting about the other courses he was supposed to attend, but decided maybe college wasn't for him. Kurt would be pissed—

Kurt. He needed his boy so badly; it was like a fire overtaking his entire body. He hadn't ever thought about what would happen if he had ever met his father after he left them. He wasn't sure what he would do. Hit him? Probably. Spout hurtful words of ugly hate? Definitely. Cry about it? He wasn't sure why, but he remembered that day, the one where Puck found his mother, broken down into sobs as he came home from school. She was guarding the front door, and _he_ was standing there with his suitcases. Puck looked up at his father, whom he idolized and frowned.

_"Where are you going Dad?" Puck asked. "Can I come?"_

_"No, son. You need to stay here and be strong for your mom and Allie. Can you do that?" Jake asked his son, kneeling down in front of him._

_Puck, being only eight years old, shrugged and nodded. "Course, Dad. Where are you going, though?"_

_"I have to go out for a little while, but I'll be back soon," Jake answered him and Puck nodded._

_"Cool. Why is Ma crying?"_

_"Because she did a bad thing and she feels bad for it."_

_Puck nods again. "Oh. But it's okay right?"_

_Jake doesn't make a sound, just an affirmative nod. "Promise me you'll be good, kid."_

_Puck nods. "When are you coming back?"_

_Jake doesn't look at Puck. "I don't know."_

_"Well, hurry, okay? I have a game on Saturday," Puck says smiling. "Coach put me as quarterback since Finn broke his arm."_

_Jake nods again ruffling Puck's curly, unruly hair, and Laura, Puck's mother, has left from her post at the door. Jake kisses Puck's forehead and leaves._

_Puck goes up to his room to play video games. It's not an hour later that he realizes that he let his dad leave. That he let him walk out of the door, bags packed, not knowing if he was ever going to come back. It takes a few days for him to realize that he isn't._

"Puck!"

Puck stops and turns to look at the owner of the voice, staring back at his father. "Puck, can we talk?"

"Don't you have class?" Puck bit back harshly, the venom in his voice unmistakable.

"I dismissed them early. I think—I think this is important," he mumbles, looking down at his feet.

"You left us. You left all three of us. Important or not, you're an asshole, and I don't want _anything_ to do with you." Puck turned on his heel and walked away before Jake puts a hand on his shoulder.

He turned around, pulling back his arm and landing a punch to Jake's face, growling. People had gathered, and they were watching.

"Don't fucking touch me, you don't know anything about me."

Puck ran away then, waiting until he was outside to take a breath, to hold himself back from puking all over the sidewalk, from collapsing just from the surprise alone.

He walked away, still carrying his books, to Kurt's office, a few miles away from the campus and walked in, sweaty and scared and nervous. That Cassie chick was sitting at her desk, working on something when he walked up to her.

She smiled up at him. He smiled back weakly.

"Hey," she cheered, and Puck took in a breath.

"Any chance I can talk to Kurt?" Puck asked, and Cassie shook her head.

"He's in an important meeting with some agents. We're trying for Lea Michele on the cover in a few months. Not sure if we can get someone as busy as she is," Cassie teased. Puck smiled.

"You mind if I wait in his office?" Puck was itching to get away from her happiness, just wanting to curl up somewhere, wanting to forget about his unfortunate encounter with the one person he hated most in the world. So he looked down at Cassie and smiled. "Nevermind. Just tell him I came by to wish him luck and that I got out of class early if he wants to meet me for lunch at home."

Cassie flashes another winning smile. "Will do, loverboy. Get some rest—you look like you've seen a ghost."

He nods and walks away.

A ghost. Accurate description of his absent father, only to have him drop in like an unwanted pregnancy.

Fuck, he was. He was so fucked. What to do? Forgive him? Probably not considering he'd punched the shit out of him not too long ago. His hand ached a bit from the force, but Puck was numb. Inside, outside. He just couldn't feel anything.

Home.

Finally. It had been a long walk and he was more than exhausted. Bone-weary, tired, just completely out of it. The house was empty; not that he cared anyway. He just kicked of his shoes, tore off his clothes and climbed into bed. He closed his eyes and slept for a while.

"Any messages, Cass?"

Kurt came out of the conference room with a smile on his face. "We booked Lea for august. Can you freaking believe it?"

Cass cheered and hugged him. "All because of your amazing sales pitch I bet."

Kurt shrugged. "Messages?" Kurt presses Cassie and she nods.

"Puck came by. Looked like absolute shit. Said he'd gotten out of class early and would be home if you wanted to have lunch with him." Cassie lowered her voice. "Something was really wrong Kurt. I could see it all over him. Take the rest of the day off. I'll cover your calls and postpone meetings. Go."

Kurt smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Cass. I owe you one."

"Just let me am in the room the day of Lea's photo-shoot." She wagered.

Kurt nodded. "Done."

He rushed out faster than anything, but still wasn't fast enough. He jumped in his car and drove off, parking in the driveway and heading inside.

"Noah?" he called when he opened the front door. He was in the kitchen, dressed down to his boxers, drinking down a glass of water. Cass was right. He looked terrible, sick even.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Puck shrugged. "I went to class and it turns out my father is my professor."

Kurt's absolutely floored by this. He takes Noah into his arms, and Puck doesn't let go of Kurt. He can't. Kurt was his one constant he could rely on. He needed Kurt. Now more than anything, especially since he rejected the father he's always wanted back.

"Come on. Let's go back to bed. We could both use some sleep. And if you want to talk about it when we wake up, we can. If not, I'll give you some space. Just know I'm still here," Kurt murmurs. He pulls Noah to the bedroom and undresses down to his underwear, climbing into sheets that smell just like Puck. He curls into Puck, this time, Puck wound tightly around him. Noah's asleep in seconds and so it Kurt, but not without wondering what he was going to do about his father. A big bomb yes, but would the rocky relationship they had, break Noah and Kurt apart?


End file.
